The Cycle
by pickledegg
Summary: "You see that boy over there?" "Yes." "I wanted to marry his mother, but she fell for a baker instead."
1. That Boy

_i._

**Gale **Hawthorne would never be completely sure why he moved back to District 12; he would say that the death of his wife compelled him to return, that he wanted the comfort of his old home and friends and his family. And maybe that was really the answer, but he had learned that things were rarely that simple.

He sat on a familiar bench outside a familiar school with his young daughter, Beryl. Her thick hair was pulled back in a tight pigtail (Gale would have liked it to be less plain, but he had little skill when it came to hair and Beryl had little patience) and she proudly wore a dress the color of an evergreen tree. She was the spitting image of her father, from her dark hair and shiny, grey eyes to her olive skin and impressive height, she was a good inch or two taller than most of the other five-year-olds Gale saw. But what made Beryl seem most like her father was her short fuse, it didn't matter what it was, but if she was even the littlest bit annoyed, she made sure you knew it.

Gale watched his daughter fondly as she hopped carefully around the bench, plucking leaves up from the ground and handing them to him, for her collection. Beryl was fascinated with the plants District 12 had to offer; they differed so greatly from District 2's nearly barren mountains and she would bring home as many leaves, flowers, grasses, or twigs she could carry and then carefully place them in between the pages of Gale's old history textbook. Beryl treated the wildlife so tenderly, that it was often hard to believe that she was the same wild, impatient girl when she was around that book, now labeled 'BeryL's PLanTs: Do NOt TouCh' in her child's scrawl.

Gale became distracted as a new family walked through the gate of the short, white fence that surrounded the school grounds (so different from the tall, iron one that had been here in Gale's childhood). A painfully familiar woman held the hand of a little boy about Beryl's age, with hair so blonde it looked like corn silk, his other was enveloped by the hand of a familiar man; ahead of them skipped a little girl whose dark hair was carefully braided in two plaits. The girl ran off to play with her friends before school started, but the boy stayed with his parents and ducked behind his mother's legs.

"You see that boy over there?" Gale asked Beryl.

His daughter looked up and followed her father's gaze. "Yes."

"I wanted to marry his mother, but she fell for a baker instead."

Beryl looked shocked, "A baker? Why would she want a baker when she could have had you? Baker's are soft, but you're strong like rocks!"

"Because she couldn't survive without him," Gale says more to himself than to his daughter. He didn't love Katniss anymore, not like that, but seeing her again felt like salt had been rubbed into an old wound.

Beryl doesn't respond. When Gale looked down at her, he sees her fixated on that little boy, her eyes were filled with something much older than her five years and the tender look, reserved only for her plant collection, was on her face. A slight blush tinted her cheeks as she reached to tug on her father's pants.

"Papa," she whispered in a voice much too soft and sweet to be her own, "I… I'm going to marry that boy."

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><p><strong>author's note<strong>: Unlikely? Yes. Out of character? Perhaps. But tons of fun to write.


	2. Pill Bug

_ii. _

**Katniss **Mellark née Everdeen sat on the porch of her home with her father's old bow resting against her legs. For the first time since Mari was born, seven years ago, she had been active in a field that didn't involve her children.

Sighing with content the woman leaned against one of the columns holding up the overhanging roof. She loved her children of course, but it had always been a relief to have a day where she wouldn't have to deal with the two of them attempting to bite the other's head off, and now she would have about nine months with both of them at school, which would leave her time to practice. Her skill with the bow and arrow had gotten rusty over the years.

Was that selfish? Her mother had never complained about her and Prim. Then again, her mother didn't have a little boy and a little girl whose moods towards the other could swing from affection to hostility in a matter of minutes.

"Mom!" the call shot Katniss out of her contemplation. She looked up and saw her daughter running towards the house with Dill in tow.

"How was your first day of school?" she asked, as her son snuggled into her lap and Mari settled herself on the step above theirs.

"S'all right, I guess," Dill shrugged, "Ms. Cartwright let us play games and we drew on somethin' called 'tablets' with chalk. I drew Mr. Haymitch and his gooses–"

"Geese," Mari corrected.

" –Geese, whatever," Dill stuck out his tongue, "Anyways, I wanted to show you and Daddy and Mr. Haymitch, but we could bring 'em home,"

"Tell her about the girl," his dark haired sister prompted, giggling maniacally.

"A girl?" Katniss smiled, running her fingers through her sons' light hair.

Dill's face contorted into something comically sour, "There's this girl in my class and we was partners for one of the games and she asked me my name and I said, 'Dill' and then she said, 'Pill? Like a pill bug?' and now all the other kids call me 'pill bug', even _after _I corrected them! I don't like that girl very much, she was mean to me."

"Well that's too bad," she grimaced, making a mental note to talk to Delly about Dill's new nickname tomorrow before school, "What's this girls name?"

"Beryl," he replied absently, in between begging to go to Peeta's bakery, "Beryl Hawthorne."

* * *

><p><strong>author's note<strong>: Originally this story was going to be two parts, this and the first chapter, but now I'm thinking about making it longer by probably four chapters from Beryl and Dill's points of view. What do you guys think?

Also, it is super hard to write Katniss and still make it seem like Katniss! I didn't really succeed so, my immediate respect for anyone who can.


	3. LoverGirl

_iii. _

**Peeta **Mellark watched with what he couldn't decide was amusement or lament (perhaps it was a combination of the two) Miss Beryl Hawthorne fidgeting besides her father as he talked to Dill at the front counter. There was no mistaking the way she seemed to be looking everywhere except at his son and how, when Dill directed a comment at her, she blushed slightly. The irony of the situation was not lost on him.

"Anything I can help you with, Mr. Hawthorne?" Peeta walked into the front of the bakery.

"We just came for a cake," Gale said and placed a hand on his daughters shoulder, "Her eleventh is tomorrow."

"I'd be happy to make one for you," the baker offered.

Gale shook his head, "No, we can't afford––"

"Nonsense!" Peeta chuckled, "As a friend of my sons, we can't let Beryl have anything less than a custom Mellark cake."

"Beryl and I aren't friends," Dill muttered.

Peeta noticed the young girl seemed to wilt a bit at his comment (and gained a dangerous spark in her grey eyes while her fist clenched) and inwardly grimaced. He put his arm around the taller mans shoulders and guided him into the back room where he would plan out cakes and other delicacies with his customers.

Gale was reluctant at first, but sighed and turned his head towards his daughter. "Run across the street and get the flowers from the florist," he called.

"Go with her Dill," Peeta ordered.

"What about the store!"

"I said 'go' Dill, Mari can mind the front while you're gone."

"What! I just stopped by to get my jacket," Mari cried, she had entered the bakery a mere few seconds before.

Peeta gave both of his children his best 'just-do-what-I-say-and-don't-complain' look. Dill hopped off his stool, he stuck his tongue out at a groaning Mari as he left the store behind Beryl.

Mari took her place behind the front desk and crossed her arms. "Dad better have a good reason for sending Dill with Lover-girl," she muttered. _  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>author's note<strong>: I originally made this chapter from Beryl's point of view, but my sister suggested using Peeta's instead and I liked it better. c;

Sorry these installments have been so short! They're more like snapshots of the story life than an actual story.


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